-The NARRATOR'S POV-
Here we go!
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The chamber reeked of old blood and the acrid stench of burnt incantations. As the heavy doors creaked open, a wave of stagnant energy washed over Charvi and Kael. The light from the hallway dimmed almost instantly, swallowed by the oppressive darkness that lingered like a living curse.
Charvi took the lead, her boots echoing softly against the stone floor slick with dried blood. The air was thick—too thick. It pressed against their skin like unseen hands, and the remnants of a ritual gone wrong clung to the walls in jagged runes and fractured symbols.
"This wasn't just a slaughter," she whispered, her voice low and firm. "This was a sacrifice."
Kael followed, his expression grave. "And not a clean one. See that?" He pointed to the far wall, where a scorched sigil bore the emblem of the Lumen's Will—defaced, slashed through with dark ink that pulsed faintly. "Someone tried to counter divine magic… and succeeded."
Charvi knelt near the remnants of a broken circle, her fingers brushing against a deep groove cut into the stone. The grooves were filled with dark residue—old blood, dried herbs, and something else. Something colder. "Necrotic energy," she murmured. "Refined. This was carefully planned."
Kael frowned. "The guard who lived here filed a report at the Temple of Vitality three days before his disappearance. He spoke of seeing feral werewolves in the forests. But they weren't alone. His words were… strange. He said they were 'guided by shapes that didn't cast shadows.'"
"That would suggest a presence not of this realm," Charvi said, standing. "Spiritual phantoms? Or maybe failed soul bindings."
Kael nodded. "There've been other sightings—villages near the mountains. The witnesses are consistent. Beasts enhanced beyond recognition. Some appeared to be vampires, others—twisted hybrids. But worse, they've started to mimic defence patterns used by our temples."
Charvi's brow furrowed. She turned to him. "How long can the Dominion hold under lockdown?"
"Another month, maybe. After that, trade routes collapse. Supplies dwindle. And panic spreads like wildfire."
Charvi's eyes hardened. "Then we need to trace this back to the source. If this is ritual-based, there must be a history. A legacy. And I intend to find it."
"The Temple Library," Kael said immediately. "Beneath the main sanctum. There's a forbidden archive—sealed during the Age of Sundering. Even the High Priest speaks of it with reluctance."
"Then that's where we go," she replied.
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.
.
The Temple Library of Vitality was not just a vault of books—it was a reliquary of forgotten truths. Its structure curled beneath the earth like a coiled serpent, carved from black stone that pulsed faintly with the temple's sacred magic. The halls were lined with torches that burned without fire, their flames cold and pale, illuminating the worn titles of countless grimoires and scriptures.
A hooded attendant met them at the entrance. He bowed without a word and turned to lead them through.
At the lowest level, beyond the sealed spiral gate, lay the forbidden wing—The Hall of Withheld Light. It housed records that were deliberately erased from public memory—tomes that chronicled the dark history of the supernatural races and the forbidden practices once used to bind, enslave, and empower them.
As they entered, Charvi's breath hitched. The energy in the room was suffocating, and it felt as though the shelves themselves watched her every movement.
One section, etched with deep red glyphs, drew her in like a whisper.
"FORBIDDEN SCRIPTURES – DO NOT UNSEAL WITHOUT DIVINE PERMISSION"
Kael hovered near her. "This is the section that speaks of the vitality rituals… the ones that weaponised human life."
Charvi opened a scroll. Her eyes scanned the ancient ink:
"The Tree of Light, once a gift to humans for growth and wisdom, has been corrupted. With blood and ritual, it can be twisted—used to seal the sanity of supernatural beings, to tame them, to enslave them…"
She flipped to another page, her fingers trembling.
"The soul of the deceased can be bound through vampiric incantations to talismans, creating protective wards that guard the wielder until their last breath. These souls never pass into the afterlife. They linger, twisted, tethered eternally to their enforcer…"
Charvi's face turned pale. "This is… vile. They used people as cages."
Kael nodded. "This is why dark magic was outlawed. Not because of its power, but because of its cost. Entire bloodlines were eradicated when these rituals were in practice. You know the legends—"
She looked at him. "The extinction of the Blood Dragon race. 7,000 years ago."
"And the Devil-Blood Vampire Clans," Kael added grimly. "5,000 years. All because they were obsessed with perfecting these techniques."
Charvi stared into the script as if it might burn her. "The balance was destroyed… and to restore it, the God's Heir descended during the Supernatural War. That's how the dark rituals were sealed. But the seal was never a purge—it was containment."
"Which means it could break again," Kael finished quietly.
She took a step back. "Call Agira. Now."
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The Temple's upper sanctum was quiet as dusk fell. Agira stood in the chamber of his master, the High Priest of Vitality, whose white robes shimmered with traces of shadow. The room was sparse—no luxuries, just tomes and relics of impossible power resting on floating pedestals.
"I gave you permission to enter the forbidden archives," the High Priest said flatly. "What more do you seek, Agira?"
"You gave it too easily," Agira replied, his tone tight. "And I don't believe in favours from you."
The High Priest's smile didn't reach his eyes. "And yet you're half-vampire. Shall I distrust you, too?"
"I am also half-human," Agira snapped.
"Then you have the strength of two souls," the priest said simply. "But you see everything in absolutes, Agira. You call yourself neutral, yet you search only for evil. That will blind you more than any spell."
Agira paused. Then, Kael's voice crackled into his mind through their link:
"Charvi's in trouble. Come to the library. Now."
Agira turned. But before he left, the High Priest called after him.
"Agira, your mind is rational, and that is your strength. But remember, if you see the world only in black and white, you'll miss its truth. The world exists in greys—a spectrum of colour born from light and dark. To understand that is to truly see.
Remember this—compassion is a more dangerous power than reason. If you divide the world into light and dark, you will always miss the shadows where truth sleeps."
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As Agira entered the library, the heavy door groaned behind him. The space felt colder than before—unnaturally silent.
"Kael? Charvi?" he called, his voice echoing strangely.
He stepped into the forbidden wing—and then he saw them. Kael and Charvi were standing over an open book, their expressions locked in confusion.
Charvi turned first, her voice urgent. "Agira—this book—there's something strange—"
Before she could finish, Kael's body shuddered. A book fell from his hand as his form twisted into light—and vanished.
"Kael?!" Agira shouted, rushing forward.
Charvi reached for him, eyes wide. "No, wait—"
She, too, flickered, her body pulled into the same spiralling vortex of light. She disappeared before his eyes.
Agira stumbled forward, heart pounding, and grabbed the fallen book.
Its title shimmered unnaturally as he flipped it open:
"THE MAZE OF RITUALS – TRIALS OF BALANCE"
The page began to glow, and a single line appeared beneath it, etched in flowing script:
"To understand the balance, one must walk the path of the condemned."
As the ground beneath him gave way, Agira realised—
They had just entered the maze.
A maze of Life and… Death.
-To Be Continued-
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